The Gambler: Part I
by Palace of Ice
Summary: Another Sanctuary AU. What if Nikola had followed his family's advice and became a professor instead of an inventor? Nikola is hired by Oxford University to teach advanced mathematics and meets a debonair young professor (OC) who teaches him about love; its bliss and heartbreak. Meanwhile, a talented female student catches his eye... This is part one of a three part story.


The Gambler: Part I

The tall young professor was brought to Oxford to teach advanced mathematics. His new students could not believe that the university had decided to hire a foreigner, much less one from a backward and obscure corner of Europe. At least if he had been German or French, as deplorable as that notion might have been, they could at least feel assured that the man was civilized. Not to mention the fact that his accent might have been slightly more understandable.

As the dark-haired man began his first lecture, the young men muttered to one another like cows lowing dully in a field. "Where's he from?" "Somewhere near Transylvania, I heard." At that revelation a doughy-faced youth exclaimed rather too loudly, "What?! I heard they're cannibals!" The professor turned on his heel, glared at the youth and snapped in heavily accented English, "If you cannot pay attention then get out of my class!" He turned back to the board and continued with his lecture, ignoring the snickers and scoffs.

...

"Dr. Tesla, I presume?" Nikola turned at the lightly accented tenor voice. The words had an odd lilt to them, lending them a charm distinct from most English accents. The man standing in the doorway of the lecture hall was well-dressed and groomed, obviously a professor, but with rather long blond hair, down to his collar in fact.

"Ah, yes, I am he. And you are?" Nikola asked courteously. "Dr. Kelly. I teach counterpoint, harmony, composition and such." Nikola cocked his head, puzzled. "Ah, a music professor? What...forgive me for asking but...what business could you have in the math department?" The boyish fellow laughed unabashedly. "Why, I just had to meet the only other non-Englishman teaching at Oxford!"

Nikola found the music professor's smile strangely contagious. He broke out a toothy grin and approached the slightly shorter man. "Oh? And what country are you from?" he asked teasingly and blatantly looked him up and down. Dr. Kelly raised an elegant brow and said, "You mean you don't recognize an Irishman when you see one?! What a sheltered and deprived life you have been living up until now!"

Nikola laughed and put out his hand to shake. "Irish. That is a first for me, and I would bet I am the first Serbian you have ever met." The two men shook hands, and the Irishman remarked, "True that. Maybe I've been living a deprived life as well. Glad to meet you, Dr. Telsa." "Likewise, Dr. Kelly."

...

The two young professors soon became inseparable, enjoying leisurely games of chess at the botanical gardens, birdwatching during weekend hikes in the countryside, and occasional trips to London due to their mutual love of the opera. Soon they began to address each other by their given names, Nikola and Kenneth.

Over time their closeness turned into the tender and passionate feelings common to close friendships of the time. Confidences shared of their most secret dreams, the intimate details of their homes and families, and the sharing of their innermost feelings and thoughts made them as close as brothers. Maybe closer.

...

"Why did you decide to study math? I mean, with as much as you talk about physics, I would have thought you would have specialized in that." Kenneth asked Nikola after telling him the story of how he had been disowned by his father for choosing to study music at university instead of law. Luckily he had only been found out after he had already completed his studies.

Nikola sighed and told him how he had dropped out of school, became a gambler, was arrested and brought back home, his father died, he stopped gambling and his uncles decided to send him back to school on one condition: he had to agree to become a math professor like his uncle Josif. Hopeful that he might still manage to study physics at least a bit, he agreed.

Unable to accomplish what he wished, he could only read at the library and occasionally managed to sneak into some lectures. Mathematics came heartbreakingly easily to him, yet its elegant abstractions left him unmoved and frankly bored. His mastery of the subject led to his current position at Oxford, not due to some exceptional brilliance, but simply due to the financial considerations of the school. This was his first teaching post and he could not yet command a high salary.

"Good God, Nikola. What a tragedy. Have you thought about trying again when you have enough money saved up?" Nikola shook his head, "With the amount they pay me, I don't know when that would be..." he sighed despondently. "I did it to myself," he muttered. Kenneth grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. "It all brought you to me. That at least, I am grateful for."

...

Nikola stood anxiously at the foot of the tree Kenneth was climbing. "You shouldn't disturb them!" he called up to the boyish man who couldn't resist trying to get a glimpse of the hawk's nest and its two chicks. Kenneth just laughed his fox-like laugh, then gasped as he came face to beak with the hawk chicks. "They're gorgeous!" He exclaimed, "Should I steal one and take up gamehawking?" Nikola scoffed, "Quit being ridiculous and get down before you break your neck." Kenneth smiled, said farewell to the baby hawks and started making his way down the tree. Suddenly a branch broke beneath his foot and he dangled for a moment by his hands. The tree creaked ominously and he yelled, "Look out!" as he felt the branch give way. This was going to hurt, was his last conscious thought before he fell.

...

Kenneth woke to find himself lying in Nikola's lap. The Serb was distraught, bruised and disheveled. "You damn fool! You nearly broke my arm when you fell on me!" Kenneth gingerly touched the lump on the back of his head. He supposed he must have hit it on the way down. "You caught me?" he asked incredulously, looking up at how high on the tree the broken branch was. It was so far. Nikola could have been seriously hurt, if not killed.

"Oh God! There's blood!" Nikola exclaimed, grabbing Kenneth's wrist as he pulled his hand away from the back of his head. "You...did you hit your head?" Nikola looked utterly horrified, as though he were witness to some gory scene. The young Irishman was confused. Surely a little cut and a lump was nothing to get so upset over. "I-What-" he stuttered, at a loss. Nikola suddenly sobbed, "You shouldn't have-I shouldn't have let you!" Kenneth tried frantically to reassure his friend that he was fine, but the Serb seemed unable to understand. So great was his terror, that Kenneth feared for his friend's sanity and health.

In a moment of desperation, the Irishman grabbed his best friend's head, pulled him close and kissed him. The shocking move halted Nikola's hysterical cries and seemed to calm him down. Encouraged by this response, Kenneth wrapped his arms around thin shoulders and cradled that beloved dark-haired head in his hand. Pressing the tear damped face into the curve of his neck, he whispered soothing words into Nikola's ear. "You see, I'm alright. Give me a hug, won't you Nicky?" Long arms wound tight around him as his friend gradually calmed down.

After a while, Nikola pulled away enough that they could look each other in the eye. "You kissed me..." he whispered, his bloodshot gray-blue eyes stormy, brow furrowed with concern.

Kenneth swallowed nervously, "Yeah, I did..." Nikola looked troubled but said nothing and simply pulled him close again. "Don't take risks like that again." he whispered sadly. "I won't." Kenneth replied, squeezing the slim body in his arms.

...

The afternoon breeze refreshed the two young men playing chess under the spreading boughs of an oak tree. Nikola was going easy on his friend as usual, devoting at best forty percent of his attention of the game while the rest of his mind daydreamed. He wondered idly if it could be possible to create a machine that could play chess.

Running the numbers through his mind, there were four hundred possible positions after both players made one move, seventy two thousand eighty four positions after both players made two moves, over nine million after three moves...

After considering the scale of the problem, he supposed that any machine that could play chess could not do so through memory alone. It would have to be a thinking machine, not unlike a human mind...

"What do you think of those two?" Kenneth interrupted his train of thought, pointing out two young smartly-dressed women who were taking a stroll in the gardens. Nikola watched them for a while as they glided along the flower beds, occasionally emitting high bell-like laughter. They seemed to him to be another species, their lives unknown and motives unfathomable.

"I don't know what to think. They seem happy at any rate." Nikola said indifferently. Kenneth scoffed gently, "No, I mean, do you think they're pretty? The blonde seems a bit girlish to me, but the brunette is too tall." Nikola tsked and turned back to the chess board. "I'll never understand the desire to find flaws with women's appearance. Unless they're unkempt and sloppy what does it matter if one is tall, short, girlish, buxom or whatever? They're all the same. All they're interested in is having children."

Kenneth hummed thoughtfully and shrugged, "I guess it is silly to try to find something wrong with them, but what I'm trying to get at is, how do they make you feel when you look at them? Do you get nervous? Do you find them...appealing? Do you ever want to talk to them? Touch them?"

Nikola looked vaguely scandalized and put off by the whole line of inquiry. "I wouldn't touch them!" he muttered under his breath. With a sigh he admitted, "Sometimes I am nervous. I don't understand their expressions, and I never know what to say... They are incomprehensible to me."

Nikola abruptly captured one of Kenneth's knights and put it by the side of the board with slightly more force than necessary. "And I don't know why a person would...engage in...unsavory acts with a woman not his wife. There doesn't seem to be any point to it to me, and it is wrong."

Kenneth raised his brow and hummed ambiguously, then made his move. "Check." Nikola cursed in Serbian, realizing he had lost the game.

...

Nikola sighed a long-suffering sigh, and was attempting to explain the fundamental theorem of calculus to his students yet again, when the strangest thing happened. A woman in a red dress opened the door to the lecture hall, completely disrupting his class, and looked about, obviously lost.

"Can I help you?" he asked archly, amused by her annoyed confusion. "Is this probability theory?" Nikola shook his head, "No, it's on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This is calculus. Are you looking for someone?" The blonde frowned resentfully, "No. I am trying to add the class." Nikola raised a brow, surprised. His first female student? How bizarre. Yet intriguing. "Alright, just come back tomorrow at three. I will add you."

His students muttered among themselves, evidently scandalized by his acceptance of a woman wishing to study. Nikola found their outrage at a woman attempting to learn subject matter that they could hardly understand and had no interest in rather pathetic. As the woman in red left, he smirked at the class and told them pointedly, "Well, it seems _someone_ would like to learn." Better than you dead-eyed lot, he thought to himself.

...

Kenneth struck a match and held it for Nikola, then watched raptly as the taller man drew hard on the cigar, making the red ember at the end flare. "Thanks," the man muttered casually around the cigar, then he took a seat. Kenneth lit his own, much thinner cigar and sat next to his friend.

"Did you hear the school has hired a new math professor? Actually they've given him the Savilian Chair of Geometry." Tesla grunted and poured himself some brandy. "Well, there goes the possibility of a raise," he muttered bitterly. Kenneth sighed. Clearly the man was out of sorts today. He continued with his news, "Professor Sylvester is coming here from America, though he's an Englishman by nationality. Doesn't have his doctorate either. You'll never guess why..."

"They're giving a man without his doctorate the Savilian Chair!? The administrations prejudices must know no bounds to pass me up for that!" Kenneth eyed his friend dubiously. Was the man drunk already? His glass was nearly empty.

"Actually, it's because he's a Jew. The university refused to give doctoral degrees to them at the time." Kenneth watched his friend carefully as several contradictory emotions passed over his face. "Well, I guess that's progress of a sort..." The disgruntled Serb finally admitted. He poured himself some more brandy and leaned back on the chesterfield. The side of his body pressed lightly against Kenneth's. Kenneth smiled at his increasingly tipsy friend and puffed on his slim cigar rakishly. He reached across Nikola's lap for the ashtray, letting his body press warmly against his friend.

Nikola allowed it, not bothering to shift away or move the ashtray closer. Kenneth settled back down again, his entire side, from thigh to shoulder pressed firmly against Nikola's body.

"A woman added my probability theory class." Nikola said, turning to look Kenneth in the eyes. "She's actually rather talented." Kenneth swallowed and inhaled sharply. "Oh? What's she like?" he asked solemnly, brow furrowed. Nikola hummed thoughtfully, his gaze unfocused as he turned his thoughts inward. "She really has a good grasp of combinatorics. It's quite fascinating..." A dreamy little smile appeared on his slim lips.

Kenneth laughed, "That would be what you'd find attractive in a woman! Something so...weird." Nikola scoffed and elbowed his friend in the ribs hard enough to knock the breath out of him. "Don't be stupid! She's just a student. My only interest in her is academic."

Kenneth eyed his friend's brandy glass. It was empty again. Nikola must be three sheets to the wind by now, he thought. There might never be a better time...

Kenneth ground out his cigar in the ashtray and asked as casually as possible, "Don't you ever get the urge, you know, for sex?" Kenneth felt more than heard Nikola laugh. "Oh, it's that kind of conversation now?" The slim, elegant drunk smiled slyly at the shorter man, turning to look him in the eyes. Their faces were so close Kenneth could smell the smoke and brandy on his breath. The blonde nodded shyly, watching those gorgeous gray-blue eyes carefully for a hint of emotion.

"I think most of my passion gets channeled into my thoughts. When I'm interested in something, I don't feel any physical passion; it all converts into mental passion. A cold, thrilling passion that is...irresistible." Kenneth nodded raptly, eyes gleaming, hoping he would go on. Nikola sighed gently, "But it's true that lately things have been routine. I'm bored, and when I'm bored...it comes up...and it bothers me." Kenneth held his breath, wanting so badly to say something, but frightened of how his friend would react.

Nikola rambled on, "That kind of passion, hot passion, is no good for me. Gambling was like that. Once I got started I couldn't stop. Imagine what I'd be like with a wife. We'd have so many kids we'd end up in the poor house!" The Serb laughed, rolled his eyes and turned to pour himself some more brandy.

Kenneth grabbed his friend's sleeve, "God, how much can you drink? You've already had two." Nikola chuckled, "You could fill a lake with the alcohol I've drunk over my life." Kenneth tsked, "Are you aiming for an ocean then? I can't have you walking the streets out of your mind. You'll be robbed."

Nikola tried to wave off his concern, but Kenneth was having none of it. "Just stay here. You need to sleep this off before work tomorrow." Nikola sighed, "Alright, where's your bed?" Kenneth froze, "I only have one, you know." "What? Of course you only have one bed. You live alone don't you?" Nikola asked bewildered. "Don't people share beds in this damned country?" Kenneth laughed relieved, "Yes. I shared a bed with my brother before, well, he passed away." Nikola smiled sadly, "Mine too." he said gently, "We will have to take their place for each other." Kenneth sniffled, eyes damp. "Yes, we will."

...

Kenneth smiled at the sight of Nikola in a nightgown. It was a bit short on him. Kenneth could see some of his slim, hairy calves. "How does it fit?" Nikola shrugged. "It's alright." He gestured to the bed. "Inside or outside?" Kenneth pulled the covers back and took the inside. He watched as Nikola settled heavily on the edge of the bed. There was barely enough room for two grown men if they lay on their sides. Nikola pulled the cover over the both of them. "Good night." he whispered with his Serbian accent. Kenneth shivered. "Night."

Kenneth lay still, hoping Nikola would fall asleep soon. After all, the man had had enough to drink that he should be drowsy. The Irishman was too shocked by the turn of events to feel sleepy. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around his friend and press himself flush against that long, lean body.

He savored the memory of being held in those arms after he fell from that tree; of them comforting each other like a pair of frightened children. And the kiss... And now to be lying within a few inches of him, nearly touching, the only thing separating them a bit of flimsy cotton. Kenneth could not believe how privileged he felt, to be permitted these intimacies.

...

Nikola shifted around restlessly in bed. This was a mistake. If he hadn't gotten so drunk then he never would have given in to Kenneth's suggestion that he stay overnight. The mathematician suffered from a unique affliction. The moment that his mind started to drift off to sleep some mental vision would rise up before his mind's eye, as vivid as if it were happening before him. Sometimes it was something pleasant, a lovely device that could have been a great invention, the landscapes of his homeland, watching Kenneth smile roguishly around one of his slim cigars or some other happy memory.

But just as often it was something terrible, the worst moments of his life, relived; the day his father died, the day he received his doctorate in Mathematics and finally realized that he had given up on his dream of becoming an electrical engineer, and worst of all, the day his brother Dane was thrown from his Arabian horse, hit his head and died.

Having no way to predict what sort of night it would be, and having no control of what his mind would do just before the moment of sleep, Nikola spent every night in an agony of anxiety. Naturally this led to severe insomnia. Generally, he averaged four hours of sleep a night, accompanied by constant tossing and turning.

Suppressing the urge to roll about in the too narrow bed was making him extremely tense. He would be very surprised if he managed to get any sleep at all tonight, despite still being pleasantly drunk. Forcing himself to be as still and quiet as possible threw every movement and sound in the room into sharp relief. Nikola felt like his entire body was an exposed nerve, tuned to sense the slightest disturbance. He felt every little shift of Kenneth's body under their shared blanket and listened to the varying rhythm of his breaths. After about an hour, he sensed something unusual was happening behind him.

Kenneth's breath became more rapid; his movements developed a regular frequency that was slowly accelerating, until the bed was rocking slightly with the movement. Though pleasant, the sounds and movement were too mysterious, and out of curiosity he asked, "What are you doing?"

Kenneth emitted a startled squeak that was rather comical. "I-I thought you were asleep!" he stuttered. Nikola turned around in the bed to face the flustered Irishman. It was so dark he couldn't see him. "Are you okay?" Nikola asked softly. An awkward silence ensued. "Yes...I'm fine." "Having trouble falling asleep?" Kenneth laughed his fox-like laugh. "I guess you could say so..." For a while all they could hear was each other breathing, until Kenneth shifted around and asked hesitantly, "Don't you know, um, what I was..." he chuckled nervously, "I mean, haven't you ever engaged in...solitary practices?" The silence that ensued was tense.

"My parents broke me of that habit very young. Are you saying that you were, that you still do such a thing?" Nikola became quite serious, almost stern. Kenneth sighed, "I know what you are thinking, but I don't think it's harmful. I have done it for years now and never came to any harm. It gives me relief. I've never been tempted to seduce a woman. It also relieves insomnia very effectively."

Nikola sighed, "Insomnia. I suffer from it too..." Kenneth eagerly suggested, "Have you ever tried it? It does work. And I think all that advice is for children. They're still growing, but a man can't stunt his growth, now can he?" Nikola tsked, "You could still shorten your life, make yourself impotent, whatever." Kenneth laughed scornfully. "Doctors say everything shortens your life and I assure you, I'm quite virile!"

Nikola was doubtful. "What about the mess? I'm not sleeping in that!" He felt Kenneth's hand touch his arm, trail along it down to his hand and press a handkerchief into his palm. "There you go. I keep a few fresh ones by the bed." Nikola held the scrap of cloth lightly, utterly bemused by the turn of events. Should he give it a try? Anything that promised relief from insomnia might be worth the risk...

...

Kenneth was vibrating with anticipation. Would Nikola actually do that, right here in front of him? Imagining those long, elegant fingers engaged in something so disreputable, those thin ascetic lips parted in a sensual gasp of pleasure; Kenneth had never been so hard. Every rustle from Nikola's side of the bed was like the most seductive music, making his body want to move along with it.

He wrapped his hand back around his erection, stroking himself slowly to the rhythm of Nikola's movements. Breathing harder by the minute, he tried to force himself to slow down, to be as quiet as possible, so that he might hear a sigh, a gasp, a glorious little moan... "It's no good. I've never really done it." Nikola whispered, the rustling coming to an abrupt halt.

Kenneth pulled his hand out of his underwear. He could smell the tension in the air. "I can show you how. I'll do it for you..." he whispered, letting his hand come to rest on Nikola in the dark. He felt along a bony shoulder for the edge of the blanket, then slowly slipped his hand underneath. It was warm. He felt along Nikola's chest, down to his belly. Nikola grabbed his hand, stopping him. Kenneth held his breath waiting for the inevitable rejection, the disgust, even hatred. A slow pain bloomed in his chest as the moment dragged on.

Then with a trembling hand, his friend guided him down to the hard heat between his lean thighs and wrapped his fingers around it. Kenneth moaned, enraptured by the silky shaft sliding across his palm. He pumped the organ rhythmically, determined to give his friend pleasure and relief. How he longed to speak to him, to ask, 'Is that good? Do you like that?' but he was too afraid to break the seductive spell of this silent action in the dark.

Nikola was breathing quickly and shallowly. He grabbed Kenneth by the shoulder, squeezing him almost painfully. Kenneth wrapped a handkerchief around the rigid shaft and stroked it vigorously. Nikola came with a dry sob, his hips thrusting his erection roughly into the soft handkerchief. He sighed languorously and gradually let go of Kenneth's shoulder, retreating to his side of the bed.

Kenneth felt the sticky dampness seeping through the thin cloth. He gently coaxed out the last of his friend's seed, then released the softening member and brought the cloth to his face. With one hand holding the wet cloth to his nose and the other pumping rapidly on his manhood he came quickly with a sharp cry. Catching the emission deftly in his hand he wiped it with the same damp handkerchief, mingling their seed. With a contented sigh, he whispered to Nikola, "Feel better?" then laughed softly when the only reply was a soft snore.

...

Kenneth awoke to the startling sight of Nikola's face right next to his, eyes staring intensely at him. "Ah! you-what are you doing?" he yelped, jumping a bit in surprise. Nikola laughed wickedly, "Scared you, did I? I was just watching you sleep." Kenneth smiled nervously back, "Do you like what you see?" he asked timidly. The warm palm of his friend's hand cupped his cheek. "Yes. I do." the Serb said seriously. "May I kiss you?" he asked while gently caressing the blonde's face. Kenneth smiled sweetly. "Yes, please..."

Their lips brushed so gently, a caress as soft as rose petals, as their breath mingled, hot and living. Kenneth touched the pale cheek, feeling a slight rasp of stubble, growing in already from yesterday. Kenneth pressed his lips firmly to Nikola's and felt that black moustache brush roughly against his upper lip. The masculine caress thrilled him. "Mmm...Nikola, may I touch you?" Nikola gazed into Kenneth's sea blue eyes then slowly smiled. "I have to go to work now." He kissed him quickly, jumped out of bed then abruptly stripped down to his underwear. The slim Serbian then engaged in various calisthenics.

Kenneth's jaw dropped, eyes glued to the lithe form in action. The smooth flesh bunched, exposing wiry cords of muscle. After several lovely pushups, the near naked man bushed himself off and rapidly got dressed. Kenneth sighed as his friend tied a four-in-hand knot around his neck, turned toward him and smoothed his hair. "How do I look?" Nikola looked every inch the respectable mathematics professor and Kenneth told him so. "Thank you for last night. And this morning." Nikola said sincerely, smiling jovially. "I'll see myself out."

Kenneth waited until he heard the front door close then broke into happy laughter. The impossible had turned out to be possible after all! The Irishman searched out the now dry handkerchief, stained with the evidence of their passion, folded it carefully into a square and placed it gently in an empty wooden cigar box. Hopefully it would be the first of many mementos.

...

Nikola was noticeably cheerful as he taught his probability theory class. It was his favorite class not only for its subject matter, but also due to the presence of his favorite student, Miss Magnus. She was so unusual, unpredictable in her reactions, abilities and opinions, that Nikola couldn't help but take an interest in her. Quite possibly she was the most interesting thing in his life right now, besides Kenneth of course.

Reminded of his-dare he admit it even to himself?-lover, Nikola smiled as innocently as a boy. The class dismissed, Miss Magnus stayed afterward to discuss the finer points of her favorite aspect, combinatorics. Nikola found himself thoroughly enjoying the highly intellectually stimulating conversation, when someone cleared their throat at the door of his classroom. A certain disgruntled looking music professor was at the door.

"Oh, Kenneth! Come meet my star student Miss Helen Magnus." Kenneth smiled tightly as he kissed Miss Magnus' hand, exchanged a few perfunctory pleasantries, then rather obviously, began waiting for her to leave. Miss Magnus glanced significantly between the two professors and took her leave.

Kenneth was looking particularly dashing today, windswept long hair giving him a distinctly romantic appearance. Nikola grinned broadly at the sight. "Did you miss me already?" he teased, oblivious to Kenneth's sour mood.

...

Kenneth scoffed, "Let's get out of here." He led Nikola to the street, hailed a carriage and directed the driver to his flat. Once inside the carriage he whispered tensely, "You seem rather close to Miss Magnus." Nikola shrugged, "She's my one good student. It's intriguing to see so much interest and talent-" "Are you sure it's not just that she's a woman that makes her seem so...talented?" Nikola's face fell. "Why do you ask such things?" The question was tinged with sadness. Kenneth's hard countenance melted at the heavily accented words. "Never mind. I did miss you. All day in fact."

...

The two men got out of the carriage and proceeded into Kenneth's flat. Nikola sat in the very same place he had the night before and beckoned to Kenneth, urging him to take his place at his side, but the music professor merely waved him off and paced agitatedly. "What's the matter?" Nikola asked, mystified by Kenneth's erratic behavior.

"I want to know-no, I need to know, what I mean to you." Kenneth blurted out, wringing his hands nervously. Nikola smiled and replied easily, "You're my closest friend, and now, my lover." Kenneth froze in place, shocked by such matter-of-fact acceptance. "You don't think what we did was sinful?" Nikola cocked his head and said thoughtfully, "Well, most things are sinful, but this is perhaps not too bad..." Kenneth laughed slightly hysterically, "Not too bad? We could face life imprisonment if we're caught!" Nikola said simply, "My understanding of English law is that buggery would have to take place, and I would never do that."

Kenneth collapsed next to his lover, exhausted by the emotional upheaval, then wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. "No, of course not, and I would never expect you to..." The blonde gazed deeply into placid gray-blue eyes, "You amaze me, do you know that?" Nikola smiled sweetly and kissed him tenderly, "Yes, I am rather amazing, aren't I?" then chuckled gently at the love tap Kenneth gave him for his words.

...

Spring turned to summer, and both faculty and students went home to visit their families if they could, and obtained odd jobs and found recreation if they could not.

Nikola could not due to his paltry salary making travelling across all of Europe unaffordable. Kenneth could not due to his father's disowning him for his deception and choice of career.

The rejected Irishman watched enviously as Nikola received letters from his mother, sisters and uncles. He hid the pain in his heart as Nikola composed lengthy replies. At least the letters mentioned himself, but on the other hand they also mentioned Miss Magnus and her scholastic accomplishments... Kenneth distracted himself by stealing kisses and caresses from his lover, then began begging him for more carnal acts. Nikola seemed to enjoy playing hard to get, evading his hands at every turn. Finally, after finishing all his correspondence he acquiesced.

"Let me fill my eyes with you." His tall, elegant lover leaned back on a plushly upholstered armchair as though it were a throne, and he, a lowly servant meant to entertain his king, began to strip. The intense gaze of his lover, following his every movement, memorizing every inch of bared flesh, was incredibly arousing. Finally, his entire body was revealed in the bright light of day, streaming in through the lightly curtained window. He felt utterly exposed as Nikola gestured for him to turn around.

"What a lovely back, nice wide shoulders." Nikola rose from his chair and came up behind the nude Irishman to get a better look at him. "You have more muscle than you let on." Kenneth shivered as a long-fingered hand caressed across his shoulder blades then slid warmly down his spine to the small of his back. The lovely touch curved around his body until the long arm, clothed still in rough wool, wrapped around his waist and pressed him firmly against his lover's wiry frame. Kenneth moaned softly as the hard manhood, still encased in thick woolen trousers, pressed against his bare buttocks.

Nikola produced a handkerchief in his other hand and dangled it in front of the shorter man. "I bet you want me to touch you, just like you did for me that night..." The Serbian's voice lowered seductively and his hips rolled gently against Kenneth's naked form. The aroused Irishman began to tremble with excitement. "Yes! Please!" he gasped out, gripping Nikola's thighs and pressing himself wantonly back against that delicious hardness.

Nikola chuckled and wrapped his hand around the hot length of flesh. He grabbed Kenneth's hand and placed it over his own. "Show me how you want it." he whispered into the blonde's ear. Kenneth eagerly moved his lover's hand rapidly over his aching manhood. Once Nikola matched his speed Kenneth let go and went back to clutching the wiry thighs holding him up, entranced by the blissful feeling of being entrapped between his lover's body and the diligently working hand. "Ah, Nikola! Yes, yes..." he moaned as his loins clenched and spasmed, wetting the handkerchief with his release.

...

Nikola carefully wiped up the sticky emission and gingerly held the dirty cloth between two fingers. Kenneth seemed recovered from his bliss, so he carefully set him back fully on his feet and proceeded to the hamper to dispose of the handkerchief. Kenneth stretched lazily and gestured for him to resume his seat. Nikola sat and self-consciously smoothed his hands over his bulging trousers. Kenneth smirked at the shy gesture, stalked over to the armchair, then sat on the floor at his feet. "Can I take it out?" he asked, gently removing Nikola's hands and replacing them with his own. Nikola nodded mutely, tongue tied in anticipation.

Kenneth deftly unbuttoned his fly and pulled the long, hard organ out of the restraining undergarments. His sea blue eyes widened at the visceral sight and stared raptly as he stroked the soft skin over the firm shaft, watching the foreskin alternately cover and uncover the shiny wet head. Nikola sighed blissfully, his eyes half-closed in pleasure. The sensation was lovely, and what a gorgeous expression on Kenneth's face. It was truly flattering. Soon enough the Serb felt the signs of impeding climax, and shifted around uncomfortably. "I don't want to ruin my clothes." he muttered, reaching to stop Kenneth's movements, but the naked man at his feet evaded his grasp and pumped him faster.

"Don't worry I won't!" he exclaimed excitedly, frenziedly stroking him as quickly as possible to completion. Nikola helplessly spasmed, overcome with pleasure, then watched eyes wide as Kenneth abruptly knelt over his jerking manhood and wrapped his lips around it, catching the spurting semen neatly in his mouth. "Ah, јеботе!" Nikola clutched at the arms of the chair, trying to force himself not to thrust deeper into that hungry, sucking mouth. "Kenneth...oh, Боже..." He could hardly believe what was happening. He whimpered involuntarily as Kenneth pulled his mouth off the sensitive, softening flesh, and watched shocked as the man swallowed then tucked the spent organ away.

"Why?" he asked, hushed and frankly somewhat scandalized. Kenneth blushed very red. "I want you to be a part of me. It's not too disgusting is it?" he asked shamefaced, looking down. Nikola lifted his chin and looked him in the eyes, "Was it disgusting for you?" Kenneth shook his head. "You taste good..." he whispered shyly, cheeks rosy. Nikola smiled gently at the boyish man at his feet. "Then it is fine," he whispered, pulling Kenneth up into his lap, embracing him, and tenderly stroking his skin. "Thank you," Nikola whispered in his ear. Kenneth hummed in bliss, "Mm hmm..."

...

As they strolled through the park, Nikola pointed out a pair of ducks swimming in the pond. A mother and her two children stopped to watch the ducks as well. The mother held the hand of her daughter but let her son run up to the edge of the pond, scaring the ducks away. Nikola shook his head exasperated, while Kenneth laughed, charmed by the boy's antics.

He turned to Nikola and asked, "Have you ever thought about having children?" Nikola raised a doubtful eyebrow, "I have no reason to have children. I have no legacy to carry on and no property to be inherited." Kenneth laughed nervously, "No, I mean did you ever imagine yourself as a father?" Nikola stroked his moustache, "No, not really. I would imagine myself as an explorer, an adventurer. That I would travel to far off foreign lands and make friends there." He laughed disbelievingly and nudged Kenneth in the side, "And look, my dreams came true!"

Kenneth laughed along, finding Nikola's merriment contagious, but in his heart he felt a longing built on loneliness. He had always pictured himself with a big family of at least five or six children, all living together in a warm and loving home full of laughter and music. After he was disowned he had put aside those dreams in favor of his compositions, but after several years, they had not been received with much enthusiasm. The folk nationalistic style was in full swing and showed no signs of waning. His own challengingly chromatic style of composition was panned by the critics as "nervous, overwrought, hysterical." The perceived effeminacy of his music was terribly insulting and disheartening, especially considering the tremendous skill and mastery his style required. Nikola had listened to a few of his piano reductions of his symphonies and pronounced them "kaleidoscopic" whatever that meant. Truly the man had no real understanding of music, only the surface acquaintanceship of the average concert-goer.

But at least the Serb was capable of that much. Kenneth's understanding of Nikola's field was truly pathetic. Frankly the music professor could barely do arithmetic, much less understand any advanced mathematics, a fact that he tried to hide as much as possible. Of course, it was impossible to hide it from Nikola, and Kenneth fancied he could see the sheen of pity in his lover's gaze as he watched the Irishman counting on his fingers as he carefully did his figures in a little notebook after visiting any shops. That along with Nikola's ability to speak and read in several languages, his greater height and even his being two years older left Kenneth feeling like the dull younger brother. And what was truly galling was that Nikola often ended up treating him that way, telling him what to do and how best to do it. And then there was the other way Nikola made him feel inferior...sexually.

They had been having sex for a few months now and his Serbian lover was gaining confidence by leaps and bounds, but had also developed distinct preferences. Nikola declined when he asked him if he would like to try performing oral copulation. Of course, he enjoyed taking the active role when they engaged in intercrural stimulation. Even in the relatively equal act of mutual masturbation he preferred to remain as clothed as possible while asking Kenneth to strip naked for him. In short the man took the dominant role as much as possible and Kenneth was beginning to feel a bit used and lately, as Nikola became increasingly sexually confident, demeaned. What was worst of all was that despite his mental distaste for Nikola's domineering behavior he nevertheless became extremely physically aroused by it, and Nikola was becoming increasingly aware of that fact and was starting to enjoy exploiting his weakness.

"It's getting late. Let's go home. I have something I would like to try with you tonight." Nikola smirked as he slipped a hand under Kenneth's coat, caressing his side. Kenneth hummed softly and licked his lips, as entranced by Nikola's dark gaze as a mouse in the sights of a crouching cat.

...

Nikola could feel Kenneth staring at him as he undressed and hung up his clothes. The heat of that admiring gaze was so exciting and flattering, Nikola found it hard to bear. He knew his skinny body was no example of male beauty, lacking as it did the bulk and power of developed musculature, yet Kenneth worshipped it as though he resembled a Greek god. Nikola found his own physique inferior to Kenneth's and wondered when the glamour deceiving his lover's eyes would fade. In addition to his slight musculature, Nikola felt much the same about his sex. One of the first things he had noticed was Kenneth's greater size, both in length and girth. Beyond that, the Irishman's testicles were full and heavy, his seed copious. Nikola realized that he could not compete with his lover in virility and so he worked on skill, control and endurance. Hopefully his efforts would keep his lover satisfied.

Kenneth was as usual completely nude and looked glorious. Nikola savored running his eyes over the pale freckled skin, his gaze trailing lower to the heavy male member jutting out from neat blond curls. The testicles were cradled underneath, as hairless and fine as a work of art. Nikola's own lower body was covered in hair down to his ankles. It started from a thin line below his navel and expanded into a wiry thicket around his penis and testicles. When he was fully naked, he felt like the half-goat forest god Pan next to the beautiful youth Apollo.

But today, he stripped completely. Kenneth smiled, delighted and reached for his exposed erection. Nikola grabbed his hands instead and steered him toward the bed. "Lie down and face me." The slim Serb positioned his lover, turning his face to the side of the bed, then stood directly before him. Grasping his lover's shoulder with one hand and his own erect member with the other he proceeded to feed his lover his hard length. He began thrusting slowly and shallowly into that lovely wet mouth, completely in control of how much Kenneth would take. He watched Kenneth's face carefully, noting his deep breaths between thrusts, the excitement in his moans, the sucking of his mouth around the hot male flesh penetrating him so obscenely.

He gave him more, pressing deeper from his suckling mouth into his helpless throat and noted how he was now in control of when his lover could breathe, how his lover had to fight not to choke by relaxing submissively around him, how his lover's pupils widened and eyelids half lowered in ecstasy. The ambitious Serb wanted to drive him even higher. He withdrew and repositioned the blond so that he lay on his back, head hanging over the edge of the bed. He stopped for a moment and stroked his partner's cheek. "Will you take me like this?" Kenneth seemed torn, lust shining in his eyes but there was some disquiet there as well. Nikola watched as the man breathed in the heady scent of sex, as he closed his eyes, licked his lips and groaned with lust. The blonde's thick erection wept clear fluid and twitched eagerly. Finally, he barked out "Yes!" and eagerly took Nikola in his mouth.

Nikola brought the formidable focus of his mind to bear on Kenneth's reactions to every move of his hard shaft penetrating him. The tightly leashed control allowed him to notice when Kenneth was overwhelmed and pull back just enough for him to recover, then resume pushing him closer to his limits. He noted carefully the signs of Kenneth's increasing excitement, the tensing of his abdominal muscles, the slight thrusting of his hips, the muffled moans after he penetrated his throat to his full extent.

As the signs of his arousal intensified, the lustful Irishman's throat was accommodating his thrusts more and more. Finally Nikola felt the man was ready and thrust regularly into the fully receptive throat, letting his balls strike his lover in the face, fucking him just as if he were a woman. Nikola pushed his iron will to the limit, restraining his orgasm until he finally saw the distinctive spasming of Kenneth's body as the semen fountained out, spattering over his belly. The Serb smiled wickedly as he let go down Kenneth's throat, feeling fully satisfied. He had made his lover ejaculate without a single touch of his hand.

...

Kenneth was tuning his violin when his colleague Professor Jones interrupted him to introduce him to a young soprano. "Miss Madeline Chandon." Kenneth held the young brunette's grass-green gaze as he kissed her hand. She smiled charmingly and said with a slight French accent, "I'm a great admirer of your Symphony of the Sea. The quartal harmonies are gorgeous!" Kenneth smiled surprised she had heard it. The piece had only been performed twice, once in London and again in Paris. "Ah, are you from Paris then, Miss Chandon?" "Oui. And yourself? Somehow I doubt you are originally from London." Kenneth smiled broadly, happy to talk about his hometown of Dublin, but they were interrupted by Professor Jones. "As much as I hate to obstruct the course of young love, I must inform you two that we're ready to start the rehearsal." Kenneth blushed, flustered at the teasing. He wasn't attracted to Miss Chandon, was he?

...

After a most satisfying rehearsal in which Miss Chandon's soprano absolutely enthralled him, Kenneth was heading out of the music department when he overheard a student say, "Dr. Tesla was coming out of Dr. Kelly's flat at five in the morning. In fact, John said he saw it happen several times." Kenneth ducked into an alcove, trying to avoid the students, who were chatting around the corner. "How did John see it anyway?" Another young man asked. "His family owns the bakery two doors down from him and John is obligated to supervise the employees."

Another young man's voice broke in, "You don't suppose they're doing the 'Oxford rub' in there, do you?" The quip was met with laughter but provoked more commentary as well. "I saw them at the park once and could have sworn that Dr. Tesla had his hand under Dr. Kelly's coat." "One time Dr. Tesla greeted Dr. Kelly by kissing him on both cheeks." The students laughed, "That would be hilarious, those two messing around like a couple boys at boarding school!"

Finally, they left allowing Kenneth to leave his hiding place. He hurried out of the University, skin crawling at the idea of gossip's eyes on him. What would he tell Nikola? When would he tell him? It might be prudent to avoid the man for a while. He caught a cab home and resolved to try and come up with a plan.

...

Nikola lingered forlornly in the hall outside Kenneth's classroom, waiting for the counterpoint class to finish. Usually, his lover was the one to come to meet him, but for some reason he hadn't done so for the last week. Nikola was starting to miss him and wondered if the man was finally starting to see though the illusions of love. Perhaps he was bored with the mathematician... God knows, Nikola was rather bored with himself most of the time, but he thought that at least he had mastered the physical part of their relationship. Kenneth seemed to enjoy their times together. Then why had he stopped coming to him after class?

Nikola ignored the students filing past him on their way out, oblivious to the raised eyebrows, whispers and knowing looks. He only had eyes for Kenneth who seemed strangely distressed to see him. "Come in here." The music professor closed the door behind him and spoke lowly as though afraid of being overheard. "The students have started to talk. They suspect that we're lovers."

Nikola shrugged carelessly, "What of it? Suspicion isn't evidence." Kenneth growled impatiently, "No, but it's enough for the law to begin investigating." Nikola sighed, "Well, how about we just meet at your place instead of here. That should be discrete enough-" "That's how we've been found out! Apparently there's a student that's seen you leaving in the morning."

Nikola smiled unconcerned. "Oh, well, I just won't stay the night anymore. It's not as bad as you're making it out to be." Kenneth evaded him as he tried to take his hand. Nikola frowned sadly, "Come now. Everyone knows we're friends. If anything you avoiding me like this makes us look suspicious." Kenneth shook his head, "Stop touching me so much where we're in public. A student saw you kiss me the other day." Nikola laughed outright, "You mean on the cheeks!? Everyone does that back home."

Kenneth snapped, "Well, that's part of the problem isn't it? You're not back home in some little village where people don't give a damn about this. We're not free to romp about in the woods with no witnesses and no law. We have to be careful or this could ruin us for life!" Nikola felt a pain blossoming in his chest. 'Et tu..?' he mused as he watched Kenneth pace back and forth agitatedly. It seemed that his lover too regarded him as an uncouth savage, ignorant of proper behavior. And the worst part was maybe they were all right. He didn't know for sure if Kenneth should be concerned. Kenneth turned to him, gaze pleading, "Look, let's just take a break for a while, at least until the semester is over and we get some new students." Nikola nodded morosely, wishing it didn't have to be this way.

...

The semester was finally over and Nikola was invited back to Kenneth's flat. The Irishman hustled him inside and Nikola took his customary seat on the chesterfield. "Come here!" Holding his arms wide he smiled broadly, waiting for his dear Kenneth to perhaps sit in his lap like he used to. Instead Kenneth sat by his side and hugged him perfunctorily. Nikola pressed closer aiming for a kiss but Kenneth turned away and smiled nervously. "Wait, I want to tell you something."

Nikola slipped his hand into Kenneth's coat and caressed his side gently. "What is it darling?" he whispered as he gazed into those sea blue eyes. They glanced away, refusing to meet his own. "This summer I've been invited to conduct a concert series of my compositions in Paris." Nikola nodded slowly, "Alright, well that's a long way off still..." Kenneth pressed on, "It means a lot of rehearsals until then. That's why I needed to tell you."

Nikola sighed, "How often will I be able to see you?" Kenneth shrugged. The Serb was becoming ever surer that his lover was tiring of him. And, he was beginning to get the feeling that there were things Kenneth was not telling him. "I've missed you the last few weeks and now you're telling me I won't get to be with you much more. Have I done something wrong?"

Kenneth swallowed thickly. Now was his chance if he wanted it. "You know I enjoy your company Nikola, and since we've become lovers I've had some of the most pleasurable experiences of my life...but, I do wish you were more discrete in public, and sometimes, the way you approach sex...I feel, um..."

Kenneth was finding it hard to even say the words, it was so embarrassing. Nikola stroked his side tenderly and prompted, "Yes?"

"You're not a selfish lover most of the time." Kenneth forced out, trying to talk around the problem, "But, why don't you let me, ah, be the active partner?" Nikola was honestly puzzled. "I'm not sure what you're referring to..." Kenneth sighed exasperated, "Could you use your mouth on me?" Nikola smiled nervously, "Ah, I don't think I could..." Kenneth frowned resentfully, "You find it disgusting don't you?" Nikola shrugged helplessly and nodded. "But it's obvious you enjoy it, so-"

Kenneth growled frustrated, "What's that supposed to mean?!" Nikola was utterly lost. "...What? Why are you angry?" Kenneth got up abruptly and said accusingly, "You always want to be in control! When do I get my turn?" Nikola could not understand what his lover was talking about. "In control? No one is making you do anything!" Kenneth was flushed red with temper. He strode toward the Serb threateningly, but Nikola just sat there unafraid. If anything, the lack of reaction just made Kenneth angrier.

He seized his lover by his dark hair and kissed him aggressively. Nikola jerked in surprise, but quickly stilled, allowing Kenneth to have his way with him. Was this what he meant by being in control? Nikola couldn't understand it. He had never been rough with Kenneth like this. The Irishman tore at his clothes, stripping him quickly until he sat there completely nude, while Kenneth had not even loosened his tie. Nikola felt strangely shy, his bare body exposed utterly to his lover's hot gaze, while Kenneth stood over him appraising him. Was he finding him wanting? Was that what this was supposed to mean? Kenneth pushed him by the shoulder, making him lay back, then kicked his legs apart, forcing him to expose his soft genitals. Nikola blushed humiliated, now sure that Kenneth was showing him his inadequacy.

Kenneth pulled out his large erection, stroking the thick rod in front of Nikola's face. "You won't let me use your mouth, so what else can you offer me?" Nikola could not believe what he was hearing. Against his will he felt himself hardening, but the lust mixed with disgust at what Kenneth was implying. He covered his traitorous member with his hands. "You aren't seriously asking for that, are you?" he asked, nauseated by the turn of events. Kenneth scoffed and reached for Nikola's shoulder, attempting to turn him over. A scuffle ensued and Nikola found himself outmatched. Kenneth pressed him belly down onto the seat, pinning him with his weight. He felt his lover pulling his buttocks apart, viewing the most private part of him, and finally he cried, "Stop it! No!"

A long moment of utter stillness passed, then suddenly Kenneth pulled away from him as though his bare body were burning him. Nikola got up and collected his clothes. Kenneth stood there silently as he got dressed. Nikola stood awkwardly before him, hair mussed, tears in his eyes. "Why did you do this? Tell me why and I'll fix it." Kenneth burst into tears, "You'd forgive me for this? Really? You must be a fool." Nikola replied simply, "I love you."

...

Kenneth sighed, despondent as he closed the front door behind Nikola. The rigorous schedule of rehearsals left almost no time to spend with his friend on their usual amusements. Consequently, they only met for trysts, and even those were short as he refused to let Nikola stay over afterward. The Serb attempted to please him sexually by encouraging him to satisfy himself between his slim, white thighs. Intercrural sex was fine, certainly with a bit of oil it was enjoyable, but he could tell Nikola was merely putting up with it for his sake.

The man stayed soft the entire time, and focused on giving him tender kisses and caresses. His deep set eyes were shadowed with sadness, as though he knew that Kenneth was drifting away from him. And if Kenneth was honest with himself, it was true, he was unhappy with their relationship. He was tired of feeling inferior and out of his depth. He was tired of having to look over his shoulder and hide all the time. And most of all, he was tired of the sad look in Nikola's eyes, the look he had put there by trying to force the unspeakable act upon him...

It made him ashamed. Maybe all this was sinful, or maybe it wasn't sinful for Nikola, but just for himself? How else could he explain his horrible actions and his lover's unconditional forgiveness of it? All he knew was that if someone had abused himself that way, he would have hated them with a rage that could never know forgiveness.

He was looking forward to his trip to the continent. Maybe getting away would help clear both their heads.

...

"Excuse me, Professor?" Helen rapped on Dr. Tesla's office door, hoping he was in. "Yes? Come in." The heavily accented words came from inside the little cell. She opened the door to find him behind his desk, hair mussed, a brandy glass still sitting before him. He was closing the drawer, no doubt putting away the bottle. She closed the door behind herself and sat across from him. There were dark circles under his eyes, which seemed red, as though he had been crying.

"Dr. Tesla, I wanted to thank you again for letting me audit your class and for agreeing to meet me about, well, how I would have scored if I were allowed receive credit." Helen smiled gently as the Serb shuffled his papers around. He pulled out his grade book and showed it to her. "Numbers don't lie. You scored in the ninety-eighth percentile for all students who have taken the exam since the class was first taught starting fifteen years ago. For our class, there's a twenty point gap between your scores and those of the next best student. If your scores were included you would ruin the curve as they say."

He smiled bitterly at her. "But, things being the way they are, it would seem these dullards are in no danger from your spectacular ability. What a waste! It seems that society has ways to exclude the different and cling to mediocrity."

Helen realized the young professor was actually drunk. If anyone else saw him like this he could be fired. She realized the best thing she could do for him was keep him talking until most people had gone home. As she had an inkling why he was in such a state, she thought perhaps she might be able to engage him long enough to keep him safe from judging eyes.

"That doesn't seem to be the case for your colleague Dr. Kelly. I understand he is premiering a new song cycle in Paris right now. Certainly no one could describe his music as conventional or mediocre." Dr. Tesla sighed and nodded sadly. "Yes, he is doing rather well, isn't he?" The man stared into space and said hollowly, "Maybe he has outgrown this place and the people in it..." Helen realized she was hurting him, and tried to cheer him up. "I'm sure he misses us all while he's abroad. At first it is a great adventure, but you'll see, soon enough homesick letters will arrive."

"It has been three weeks. I don't think he has lost any enthusiasm as of yet." The dark-haired man started to stand, getting ready to leave his office, but Helen interrupted him. "What will you teach next semester? I'm registering for classes right now." Dr. Tesla sat heavily back down, "Ah, let me look at the schedule..." He opened a drawer, dug out another notebook and flipped through it. "Integral Equations, Number Theory, Statistics...why the hell do they want me to teach statistics?" He tsked, annoyed by the administration and their seemingly arbitrary decisions. "They should have Sylvester teach it, he could use the work load." He snapped the book closed and rolled his eyes. "What a bore!" he muttered, shaking his head.

Helen seized the chance, "Well, I will take it, that way you'll have at least one attentive student." Dr. Tesla grinned crookedly at her. "Alright. It makes sense for your interests anyway. Medical advancements are often based on statistical case studies." He put away the notebooks and papers on his desk, seemingly readying himself to leave. Helen searched for another topic to delay him with, "Ah, do you ever do Independent Study? I would really like to continue my study of Probability. Perhaps I could do a special project?"

Dr. Tesla furrowed his brow, wondering what she was getting at. "What sort of special project?" Helen shifted about nervously, unsure what to say. It appeared her desire to protect her professor's reputation might be starting to endanger her own. "Ah, well, I haven't decided on anything yet. I was hoping perhaps you could suggest something..." she trailed off awkwardly, hoping she hadn't made herself look too foolish. Dr. Tesla stared at her searchingly with stormy gray-blue eyes. Apparently satisfied when she met his gaze squarely and refused to back down, he shrugged. "Alright, I will come up with something for you."

...

Nikola strode eagerly up to the door of Kenneth's flat. The man had finally returned after two months in France and he was eager to see him again. Strangely, the Irishman had not sent even one letter while he was abroad, but Nikola figured he must simply have been too busy. Kenneth opened the door and pulled him inside.

The Serb took the opportunity to embrace his lover firmly, kissed him happily on both cheeks then grabbed him by the shoulders to take a good look at him. Kenneth smiled brightly, eyes tense, and pulled his friend over to his customary seat. "Um, I have some very exciting news. The Philharmonie de Paris has commissioned a violin concerto and booked me for a concert series. They want me back every year." Nikola smiled, happy for his success. "Wonderful," he said softly, glad to see Kenneth in good spirits.

"And, there is something else I need to tell you..." Kenneth steeled himself visibly, "Miss Madeline Chandon has agreed to be my wife. We marry in two months." Nikola felt the bottom fall out of his world. "You're leaving me?" he asked, quiet as a child unable to understand the cruelty of the world. Kenneth wrung his hands and looked away. "No, I just need to dispel the rumors about us, and you know that I would like to have children-" "How is this not you leaving me?!" Nikola cried, increasingly distraught by Kenneth's closed off expression.

"Don't worry! We're still friends. We will find ways to meet in secret-" "You want me to help you betray your wife?" Nikola shook his head angrily, "That is so utterly wrong! I can't believe I'm hearing this from you!" Kenneth tsked in disgust, "Do you think what we've been doing up until now has been right?" Nikola felt time stop. He balanced on a precipice, the terrifying unknown yawning like a pit before him. "Do you love me at all?" he whispered, unconsciously clenching his fists. Kenneth stared at him as though they were strangers. "I don't know."

...

Nikola wandered the streets aimlessly. His hand hurt. He supposed it was what he deserved for punching his now former lover, and probably former friend. It was the first time he had ever struck someone with violence. 'If this was love, then what must hate be like?' he mused as he trudged through a group of beggars. They seemed aware of his violent mood and gave him a wide berth.

Eventually, his mind surfaced from its masochistic review of their entire relationship and he found that his feet had brought him automatically to their tree in the botanical gardens. It was late and the sun was beginning to set. He slumped in one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. He was a fool to believe in such a love.

Always in life he had felt that society's limits and rules were like blinders, and that he could somehow glimpse a world of possibilities, just from the corners of his eyes. This vision convinced him that there was always a way through, a way around, a way over and above the common ways of the world. Loving Kenneth had been like that for him. He felt it was destined, and therefore had faith that everything would just work out.

But it turned out that Kenneth had been using him. Kenneth did not love him and all the tender words and touches had all been lies. Lies. For what? Nikola could not understand. Tears dripped onto the paving stones beneath him.

...

Nikola walked along the dark streets, unconcerned about being robbed. After all, what did it matter if they took his money? He had already lost the person he loved. He had repaid a wrong with a wrong. If he was robbed, it was probably divine punishment at this point.

On the street corner a group of men were crowded round a small table improvised from an overturned crate. Nikola recognized the signs of a card game in progress and lingered around the edges, vaguely interested in the outcome. A scraggly looking old man noticed the finely dressed young professor watching the action despondently and beckoned to him, "Hey friend! Let me deal you in. You look like you could use some cheering up!"

Nikola felt himself hovering on the edge of the precipice once more, but this time deliberately threw himself off. "Alright. What's the ante?"

...

END PART I


End file.
